We Are The Difficult People

Part I: Chaos And Religion

If you had a nickel for every time you crossed the road rooting
for speeding cars to hit you in the middle
in the middle where you close your eyes, waiting for that glorious fin
Knowing that you will not get cheered on in the afterlife
and you’re okay with it
But in the cold in-betweens and moments of internal chaos
that have you wondering
should you give in to theism, humanity’s greatest vanity
bow down to deities, pray to non-existing endless varieties
that your mother and her sisters would not shut up about
that the world wouldn’t stop shoving down our throats that they believe are thirsty
for salvation, for redemption, for their holy matrimonies that cause nations to go to war
and leave children without homes
that bring down houses of those who tried to live in peace
with no consideration for their life’s work
to consume and to work to consume, and save so little
trinkets and trophies imported from warring nations
that value nothing but disdain
and governments more interested in weeding out than cultivating

Part 2: Hiding Your True Self

“Can’t you see in my eyes that I’m dead inside?”
you tell the world
“I can’t stand seeing myself in daylight”
“I like who I am more at night”
when the pills have taken wheel to your mood
when everything you do have little consequence
when you can riot before your whole life resets at eight
and the responsibilities become more visible
become more tangible
and you shrink back to your littleness
your ego burnt and nobody notices

We all wear masks, and under yours is just another disguise
You play parts you believe are more interesting than your own unstable stature
You say yes because you like pretending to please
royal dressed up in their best pawn’s attire

Your friends describe you as unapologetic
But you think, “Isn’t unapologetic just another word for bitchy?”
You won’t let them change you or defeat you by technicality
And so they leave
And by now haven’t you taken notice
of how troubling it is that you are capable of
ending ties
without feeling anything
that losing people’s like trimming nails
or cutting hair
they’ll grow back to annoy you one day any way

Part 3: Invisibility

“I walk unattended,” you tell yourself
“I’m good, I’m happy not being noticed”
You said, “I hide in plain sight”
when really no one’s looking

“I write. I share. I reverse. I reserve.” Trying your hardest to de-publish
Re-edit your words as strangers mold them
to fit into what they think you want but never meant
“Don’t discount me for my weaknesses
“Nor judge me by the mean lines on my forehead
“or the extra pounds you think I need to lose just so you can treat me like a human being
“I am a healthy person but not healthy enough for you
“I try my best, my best to get by, still you think I lack
self-respect because I’m not who you think I should be
“Heavier than you think I should be
“Shorter, not pretty enough, or god knows what fantasy you think I should be”

and I know who I want to be
and that’s none ofย your business until I decide to make it so

The Keith to my Lance
The man who I wish I were
My Kevin
My Rashida
I’m going to paint my bedroom walls again and again with their names
until I absorb their very essence, and with it
the people who admire them

Part 4: Soulfully Invalid

We, the Church of Heuristicism
are closed to those who want to make a name for themselves
We are open twenty four seven
to twenty two somethings and men not of age

in the place where we are in direct contact with deities
and those trying to become them
forces of originality have no place in it
every man and woman just ones and zeroes
not noble, not content
just vapid from the get-go

a woman different is considered brave
a feminist a lesser
a fascist, fascination
and leaders, reviled

What more do you ask from me
Parade around my disabilities?
Let the world know I can do everything even though I am sick, I am
amputated, I am
disabled, I am
considered dumb
angry
ignorant
jealous
petty
What other words do you have for me?
How much longer till my name becomes
your new pejorative

and still you’d write ‘hero’ in the tombstone
Sanctified with scars you’re just glad you don’t have
I did not bear this cross for your sins
No holy train yet you’d use the name to make examples of
the things you dare do in your quest for gold stars

I sure hope it was fun for you to watch me fail
I sure hope it got entertaining

There is no longer the business of rounding up the usual suspects
We know them by heart as of now
We’ve become reluctant friends with our vices
and will soon merge with their being

I have been told countless times
that I’m not relatable enough
And if you’re one of those, one of them, then
โ€“ trust me on this โ€“
I don’t want to relate to you
I never wanted to

Wait, who are you again?
Do I know you?
Yeah. That’s right. Keep walking.

 
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